


In the absence of pretty things

by bubblesandwich



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: After hanahaki treament, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Implied Relationships, M/M, Middle School, Surgery, Thoughts in the hospital room, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:45:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblesandwich/pseuds/bubblesandwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs flower petals. The disease can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.</em><br/> </p>
<p>Akashi Seijuurou was 14 years old when he had his operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the absence of pretty things

Akashi Seijuurou was 14 years old when he had his operation.

When he awoke, he was surprised to find that his father was standing at his side. The pleasant perplexity was quickly replaced with an inexplicable feeling of betrayal, however, when he realized _why_ he was in the hospital bed- _why_ he felt that something absolutely irreplaceable and precious had been ripped away from him.

“How do you feel, Seijuurou?”

He had done his best to keep it a secret. Which was stupid, really. Hanahaki was a disease that can only be cured either through surgery, moving on, or by the reciprocation of his unrequited feelings. 

To let go, or to have his pitiful feelings returned. He knew that those things were impossible, and everything Seijuurou knows is always correct.

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers._

His father was bound to find out; his words unintentionally held triggers. A marriage meeting. A fiancé. A _wife._ The coughing fits that came with hanahaki were random and the traces– mocking, pretty flowers– were difficult to cover up. Ever since his mother died, flowers no longer filled the vases in the Akashi mansion. 

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers._

“Nothing. I don't feel anything.”

And his father smiled down at him.

Seijuurou wasn't angry. There was nothing to be angry about. The feelings that he had treasured and desperately tried to protect had gone. Now, with the veil love had casted over his senses removed, he saw how absurd and meaningless those feelings were. Really, give up his inheritance, his future, his _life_ for a middle school student who didn't return his feelings? How ridiculous, Seijuurou! He felt embarrassed by his own naïveté. He could finally move forward without being tied down by such unnecessary feelings.

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers._

“You will be discharged tomorrow. I will arrange for the chauffeur to pick you up. And as for the marriage meeting-”

He paused and examined his son, steady eyes watching for any hitches in breathing or jerking in movements.

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers._

There were none. Seijuurou was cured. His father smiled again. For some reason, Seijuurou hated that smile.

His father, like him, disliked disobedient dogs.

“-it will take place on Saturday. I trust that six days is more than enough time for you to prepare, is it not?”

A command, not a question. The redhead nodded, and the man left.

As the door closed with a gentle _click_ , Seijuurou went over the words in his head.

_Marriage meeting. Fiancé. Wife_. Nothing.

_Momoi Satsuki_.

Nothing.

_Kuroko._

“... _Tetsuya.”_

 

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers._

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers when she greets Kuroko Tetsuya in the morning and at the start of club activities._

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers when she links her arm with Kuroko Tetsuya’s, nor does she cough flowers when Kuroko Tetsuya gives her another winning popsicle stick._

_She doesn't cough when Kuroko Tetsuya responds to her ‘Tetsu-kun’s with a soft smile, nor does she when he lets her lean her head on his shoulder._

_Momoi Satsuki doesn't cough flowers._

 

Seijuurou allowed himself to smile. He didn't feel like he was choking, like he was slowly suffocating from the blossoms blooming in his throat, his lungs. He was no longer tormented by dilemmas that left him choosing between expressing his feelings and his position as his teammate, his friend. He no longer felt nauseous, where he would throw up bunches and bunches of petals, where he would feel that he was losing a piece of himself with every bud that slipped through his lips.

Seijuurou was no longer coughing, and his petals were now nothing but a memory.

_Akashi Seijuurou no longer coughs flowers._

But like he had thrown up enough flowers to decorate his entire bedroom floor in crimson, Seijuurou was empty.

Looking at the white hospital sheets, he remembered the time his own covers were covered in fragile little petals. 

He wondered if he actually missed them. If he wanted those hands of his to be adorned with those pretty things again. To his left, on the metal trolley, was a small novel. It was a birthday present; his favourite. He allowed himself to take the book into his hands, flipping through the clean, crisp pages. It had been one of the few things he had made sure to keep in pristine condition not simply because of habit, but because it had been something precious to him.

_Akashi Seijuurou no longer coughs flowers._

Hiding them under the sheets, Seijuuro allowed himself to relax into the hospital bed and draw his gaze to the window. He watched as the blossoms bravely regained their colours on the trees, petals that weren't his weaving and dancing through the cool spring air. He knew that he was allowed to smile. Pale blue beyond the city skyline. Quietly, he stifled a cough. 

An empty vase was in his room, collecting dust.

_Akashi Seijuurou no longer coughs flowers._

How he wished there were flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Hanahaki disease. I first came upon this tag sometime last week in another fandom, and the idea of coughing such destructive petals, while tragic, seemed so pretty. I instantly thought of red flowers, since it'd be like a visual euphemism for blood.
> 
> I edited this for four days straight and I'm not sure if I'm 100% satisfied. If there are any grammatical errors I missed, please don't hesitate to point them out; I'd like to improve on that.  
> Diseases are only capitalized if they're named after someone/someplace, right? I decided that hanahaki wasn't the name of someone or someplace, so I didn't capitalize it. I spent a solid 10 minutes thinking about that. I need to stop (I'm gonna change my mind). I have an exam in three days, so I needed to post this before I lost my mind.
> 
> I actually have some ideas on how to expand on this, but for now I'll just leave this here!
> 
> Thank you again for reading! If you enjoyed it, go ahead and leave a kudos and a comment! 
> 
> This is my first time posting anything, so feedback is definitely appreciated. Please, _destroy me with your words._


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